The Rome Affair. Addison Fox
He brushed his mouth to hers, the small puff of air against his lips as she sighed the sweetest victory.
The rich Chianti she’d ordered was a bold match for the taste of her. Where he’d had the advantage of surprise while they’d stood at the jeweler’s the day before, here he had the luxury of time. The darkened interior of the airplane cabin cocooned them as one moment spun into the next.
Another soft sigh left her lips, the sound echoing in her throat in counterpoint to the increasing urgency of the kiss. Her hands gripped his shirt at the shoulders and he felt the flex of her fingers along the base of his neck.
And then she surrendered.
One last sigh—was that contentment or acceptance?—drifted from the back of her throat. She tilted her head to give him better access before pulling him closer. And the delicious play of her tongue over his had need coursing through his body in hard, pulsing waves.
He knew there was a woman underneath that calm, cool exterior very few saw. How enticing, then, that he’d be fortunate enough to get a glimpse.
His hands skimmed the width of her shoulder before dipping down her arm, then snaking over her waist. The firm muscles over her hip bone captivated him and he allowed his fingers to drift over the edge of her slacks. The heat of her skin branded him and the soft flesh sent another shock of need spiraling through his system.
With a last muffled protest from his conscience, he pulled back, breaking the erotic contact.
Those lush blue eyes were wide with shock and need, her large pupils a ready sign of her arousal. “Now do you see why we can’t do this?”
“That kiss only reinforced my point, darling.”
“Exactly.” She shifted and lay back against her seat. “We’ve got a job to do and we need to keep our heads in the game. Neither of us have worked this hard to throw it away on a few moments of fun.”
She bricked up her personal walls with swift efficiency, her emotions winking out like a light.
And we’re right back to that calm, cool exterior, he couldn’t help thinking before the urge to bait her got the better of him. “Hide behind your work all you want, Kensington. I’m quite good at multitasking when I put my mind to it. And I’ve got absolutely no problem juggling my personal life with my professional one.”
She sat back up at that, the sexual haze in her gaze vanishing as good old-fashioned ire rose up to take its place. “I’m not hiding behind anything.”
“You sure about that? Because I wasn’t just kissing myself.”
“Oh, for God’s sake—enough. We’re grown-ups. We can behave like rational, professional adults.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, darling.”
“I don’t need to tell myself anything. I get along just fine.”
Jack wasn’t sure what it was—the subtle challenge or just this strange madness that gripped him every time he was in her presence—but he knew he couldn’t back down. He leaned forward on one elbow, his gaze unwavering on hers. “Know this. When we do make love—and believe me, we will—I’m going to strip away every bit of that prim, proper exterior to reveal the woman underneath.”
“This is a ridiculous conversation. Only I choose whom I share my bed with.” Her words were flat but the clear notes of irritation sparked underneath each syllable.
“Then you know damn well the next man you share it with is going to be me.”
Jack lay his head back on his seat, but just before he closed his eyes, he had the satisfaction of seeing her mouth screw up in a small, thin line. He was just petty enough—and aroused as hell—to feel a perverse sense of satisfaction.
Served her right.
Now they’d both spend the damn flight clamped in the shockingly uncomfortable jaws of arousal, the promise of explosive passion winking just out of reach.
* * *
Jack’s words echoed in her thoughts throughout the flight and on their cab ride from the airport. The statement that she’d share his bed as if it were a fait accompli. Or worse, as if she had no choice in the matter.
But do I?
That small, irritating voice that had ridden her thoughts throughout the long, overnight flight chimed in with a mad disclaimer.
And a very real part of her knew it was true.
No matter how she attempted to think her way out of this attraction to Jack, she couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t make sense of this raging need to see where things would go between them.
Hell, she didn’t even know the man. How could she possibly think of sleeping with him? Of giving her hormones the upper hand.
The disconcerting thoughts gave way as she finally registered the view out her window. The streets of Rome enveloped them, and it was only when they passed by the Spanish Steps that she began to relax and give herself over to the moment.
Rome.
The Eternal City.
And a personal favorite since she’d been a small child. She, Rowan and her mother had come here when she was twelve for a girls’ weekend, just the three of them. It had been a spontaneous trip, in reaction to a weekend her father, Liam and Campbell took on a campout upstate.
Even after all these years, she could still taste the sweet gelato they’d shared in one of Rome’s many piazzas. Could still remember her mother’s encouragement to lean forward and take a sip from one of the fountains around the city, all which had run with fresh water since the Roman Empire.
And she’d never forget the light gleam in her mother’s eye as they’d walked past a gaggle of Italian men who offered up appreciative stares and comments in their native tongue.
She’d been scandalized at the time, and it was only later, as they crossed the Tiber to visit the Vatican, that her mother had explained how the men competed against each other while also saving face by acknowledging the women around them.
“Sort of like how Liam keeps looking at his muscles in the mirror?” Rowan’s question had her mother’s light laugh floating on the afternoon breeze as they crossed the old bridge.
“It’s a bit like that.” Her mother pulled both of them close. “He thinks we don’t notice when he does it.”
“That’s because he’s stupid. All boys are stupid.” Kensington couldn’t resist offering this tidbit up. It had become her favorite litany, even if she didn’t think all boys were stupid. Especially one in particular who’d caught her eye at school.
“No, sweetie, they’re not. They’re just different from us.”
Kensington shook off images of the young boy who’d caught her attention in math class and focused on making her point. “Like this weekend. Who wants to go sleep in a tent?”
She enjoyed the sounds of the city keeping them company and couldn’t imagine trading this for a night spent under the stars.
Rowan’s argument was swift, winging back within moments. “Hey. I like sleeping outside.”
“You can have it.”
Her mother tugged them both closer for a hug. “Girls. We’re all entitled to like what we like. And your brothers are entitled to the same courtesy. All I’m trying to say is that men see the world differently than we do.”
“Is that bad?” Rowan voiced the question first, and for some reason Kensington was glad she had.
Although she had her brothers as ready—and gross—objects of the male species, lately she’d begun to notice that some of the boys at school didn’t seem quite so gross. There was Jonathan from math class, who had caught her attention with his